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Austin Sargent
#1 - Worship
age 9
an organ
comes to life in sorrowful song/ all at once, we stand
voices lifted, hands raised, both in delicate cadence
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I’m not sure for what, but I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am doing it right.
a boy
catches my eye and smiles/ all at once, I look away
heart racing, worry escalating, both in strange familiarity
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I’m not sure for what, but I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am doing it right.
a moment
calls me to the altar of my curiosity/ all at once, I repent
lips quivering, sins defined, both in tender gratitude
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I’m not sure for what, but I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am doing it right
age 14
a song
churns my broken silent spirit/ all at once, I sing
faith proven and rumors sated, both in abundant volume
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I think I know for what, and I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am doing it right.
a kiss
swells within me in crescendo/ all at once, I cry
questions answered, meaning made, both in simple harmony
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I’m not sure what you will say, but I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am doing it right
a prayer
illuminates my deepest doubts/ all at once, I know
fists clenched and faith lost, both in quiet defiance
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I don't expect an answer, but I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am doing it
age 18
a secret
trips delicately out of my mouth/ all at once, I’m defined
tears shed and embraces given, both in gracious fellowship
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forgiveness
I don’t know what else to say, but I ask it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, I am
that same boy
holds my hand with fingers interlaced, all at once, I’m known
i think about every sad story they ever wrote about people like us
with my eyes closed tight, I ask for forever. will you still love me tomorrow?
I don’t think you’ll hear me, but you do
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief, we are
a soul
finds peace within its own self-defined heaven
my angels surround me and sing joyously- Judy, Liza, Barbara, Bette
with my eyes closed tight, I stay here forever.
I dont think you’re even listening any more, but I say it anyway
a tear rolls down my cherub cheek
I sigh, relief.
#2 - our daily bread
for many years, I prayed to that Jesus
yes, that jesus
the one from all those paintings and songs
the one in the flowy white robes and the
just right ring lighting on his
sculpted, oddly handsome cheeks and chin.
The one who looked like the front of store bags
from stores I never shopped from
stores that gawked and laughed at me
before I even considered walking in
abercrombie jesus
but I also prayed to frail jesus
the one sculpted into crucifixes
and mass marketed every Easter
the jesus with exaggerated punctures
and not in his ears or nose
though I think that would be very cool
I see how you cry and beg for forgiveness
meanwhile I wonder how to achieve those
visible ribs
#3 - take my body
When the time had come, thin white jesus gathered his disciples around a table.
He blesses a lukewarm bowl of red wine (Cabarnet maybe) and says
“This is my blood. Now drink.” Peter looks to Paul. Paul looks to Simon.
Simon looks to Garfunkle and they say, “You want us to drink…. your blood?"
But they do it anyway. A quick swig of that salty, briny, red winy, and they all say
“Whew–thank God thats over.” But it wasnt.
And then, thin white jesus broke bread and declared.
“And this. This is my body. Now eat.” Then Peter looks to Paul. Paul looks to Simon.
And Simon looks to Mary Magdelene–oh wait, just kidding,
she wasnt invited– and they say, “You want us to eat…your body?”
But they do it anyway. Dry and unleavened, the crumbs delicately fall and shatter across
the stone table top. And they all partake in it, mouths dry and appetites overall
unsatisfied. Where’s the wine when you need it most?
But that is not my body.
My body is special. My body is sacred. My body defies all notions of crumbly and corked.
My body is delicious and savory without necessarily having to be savory.
No more wafer crackers and sugar free grape juice, this body is full of flavor.
I am baked low and slow at 350 degrees. I am beer battered and maple glazed.
I am equal parts barbeque and souffle. I am intentionally crafted and delicately balanced.
You don't get to just take of my body. I invite you to take in my body. Delight in my body.
Savor my body.
My last supper deserves a four course meal. But served on paper plates–
like the thick ones you buy for thanksgiving or grandma's birthday.
Let’s say grace and give thanks over mac and cheese and mashed potatoes.
Let’s us gather round mom’s meatloaf or hold hands around a spiral ham.
Let us remember that food brings life and life is joyous and joy is like Lawry’s Season
Salt– I sprinkle that shit on everything.
When you take in my body, let it delight you.
Like breaking an Oreo apart and eating just the double stuffed filling.
Like picking blackberries straight from the bush and not even waiting to rinse them off first
like mom said.
Like the first taste of morning coffee when its brought to your bedside..
Like the smell of brown butter or the sound of a perfect skillet sizzle. Szzzzz.
How beautiful it is to experience life’s full bodied flavors.